


Finale (Can’t Wait To See What You Do Next)

by honorary_penderwicks



Category: Splatoon
Genre: Building trust, But dealt with in a healthy way, F/F, Healthy Relationships, Mild Angst (but not really until later on), PTSD, Slow Burn, Yall this is supposed to be cute, lore based
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-22 18:50:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21306872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honorary_penderwicks/pseuds/honorary_penderwicks
Summary: A chronicle of events that occur after both the metro and the valley. Three is learning to trust her own judgement and deal with fallout. Eight is healing after her trauma. The agents are all living domestic lives, but have the occasional doomsday scenario thrown at them.Healthy relationships and coping mechanisms? Slow burn? Building up trust after mutual traumatic experiences? It’s all here baybe.
Relationships: Agent 3/Agent 8 (Splatoon)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21





	1. After the Statue

Eight was struggling. The group was all talking in rapid fire Inkish, and while it was somewhat close to Octarian, it wasn’t close enough to understand what was going on. Occasionally, Marina would look at her and translate something important, but it wasn’t like being a part of the conversation. She kept staring at Three vacantly, hoping she was alright.

Minutes passed and the helicopter landed. Things seemed to go by so fast after that. They left the airport, headed to the compound. Marina and Pearl went home. Eight felt her back protest when she twisted to see where Three sped off to, but the Captain guided her forward. 

Captain took Eight to a room around the corner, and told her she could stay there for the time being. There was a shower, some spare clothes, a nice bed. Small, but not a cell. There was an open window in the corner with a small fan. Eight teared up a little as she looked at it. She turned to the Captain, and asked in Octarian; “Is this home?” 

The Captain replied in Old Octarian, which was now seen as very choppy and formal. Since the war, the language had evolved into something much shorter. Eight understood it better than Inkish, but it was still a little rough. “If that is what you would like,” he replied. “You have every right to anything this facility may offer. Including medical attention, if need be.” A great offer, but not helpful if she couldn’t read the signs.

Eight thanked him, and then he left. Time slowed down again. She cleaned herself, and found a tray of food sitting out for her. She devoured it, and then she was at a loss. Her back ached from the bomb explosions, her feet ached from those ridiculous high heels she had to wear, and her head hurt from not having proper nutrition and sleep in so long. ‘_Sleep.’ _She thought. How lovely that sounded. She decided that the rest could be dealt with in the morning. For the first time since loosing her memories, she lay down and truly slept. 

In the morning, she woke to another tray of a different food. It was warm, but not hot, leading her to believe that she had slept through breakfast. She ate, fast, and then went down the hall that they came, looking for the place Three had gone. Instead, she found Four, and time sped right back up.

Four was looking for Eight. She had heard about the adventures in short, and being the bold, curious girl she was, she couldn’t help but wondered if there was really an Octoling staying there. The thing about Four however, is that she is very loud. She talked fast, even for Inkling standards. As soon as Four found Eight, she began to talk ad loud as she always has. 

Eight was already on edge, but this boisterous, small inkling in her face was not helping the overwhelmed feeling that she already had.

Three rescued her, coming around the corner and seeing the bouncy inkling and trapped octoling. She snapped something at the Four, which immediately shut her up.

Three grabbed Eights wrist and practically dragged her down the hall as Four bounced beside her. They went right past the infirmary doors and to a large room that looked almost like a conference room. Three pointed at a chair, and Eight sat, still overwhelmed. The captain was there, as were the squid sisters, and surprisingly, Marina, but no Pearl. Marina looked at Eight softly, and said, “I’m here as a translator, but also your friend. We’re gonna get you through this, alright?” Eight nodded in reply. 

The meeting was a briefing, and it was anything but brief. A synopsis of what happened in Octo Valley while Three and Captain were underground, as well as one of what happened in the metro. Eight caught some important vocabulary words in Inkish, such as music, weapon, Four, train, and explosion. Four seemed to like that word.

Eight hadn’t gotten a word in edgewise, about her memories or her injuries, and was beginning to feel more panicked about being on the surface. She had hoped that being on the surface would help her memories return, and while she still had all of her mem cakes, the memories were all, frustratingly, in Inkish. She hated the sicko who thought _that_would be funny. Not to mention she didn’t have a complete set. Only 59 out of the 80 total. Words were flying around her, Marina was doing her best, but struggling to keep up; Eight could tell she was missing information. She could feel herself getting ready to cry.

“Dude, are you okay?” Three was looking directly at Eight with an unreadable expression.

Marina translated, and Eight just looked at Three. She opened her mouth to say _no_, or _take me to the infirmary_, or _I am overwhelmed by the surface_, or anything, but no sound came out. Mute, and unlike anything she had ever felt before. She realized, suddenly that she hadn’t spoken a word since Marina told her her role in inking the giant statue. So she just kept staring at Three, and the others in the room started to talk again, too loud, too fast. There was too much she couldn’t understand. They started to sound distant and garbled, like listening from under ink.

Eight was escorted to the infirmary by Marina (who was downright livid that she hadn’t been taken there already). The doctor there patched her back, but warned her it would scar. She prescribed meds to help with anxiety as well as pain. She requested that someone help her take care of herself until she started to talk again. Eight just laid back, letting herself be led everywhere until she could lay down. She ate what she was brought. But mostly, she just wanted to sleep. 

Her memories of this time are hazy. Like looking through a thick fog at night. She remembered the others coming in and caring for her. She remembered arguments outside her door, even if she couldn’t remember the contents. But she knew something wasn’t right. Four, Pearl and Marina were there the most. Cuttlefish and the Doctor were in sometimes, and the Squid Sisters stopped in whenever they could. Three was the most scarce, but the most looked forward to. Even if she couldn’t make herself speak, or really move, or remember things she still could always look forward to Three’s rare visits.

Three came in one night, late, and said something in Inkish that Eight couldn’t understand. Three grabbed Eights hand for a moment, but Eight was so out of it, that there were no questions in her mind. Three left, after about 5 minutes, and that was the last Eight would see her for 10 months.


	2. The Return

Three stood on the edge of the sewer grate in Inkopolis. It had been a very long trip, and she wasn’t exactly sure what she would see when she walked back into the compound.

_“Why do you need to go now? We can recruit others! Eight responds the best to you, and you know that. Can’t you wait until she’s better?”_

She kicked at the ground. She took a breath, and jumped into the sewer. Upon arriving at the compound, she found that not much had changed. Callie and Marie were sitting at the front, laughing together about something. Callie looked over and caught a glance at her. Three waved. Callie waved back, but said nothing. Three went looking for the others. Cuttlefish was thrilled to see her, giving her a warm hug (against her will).

“You have grown!”

“I’m the same size. I stopped growing before we met.” Three laughed, against her strong desire to remain unreadable. Her fondness of the old man was too great to hide for too long. “It’s great to see you.” She looked around. “The place is the same. Any of the others here?”

Cuttlefish’s smile dropped for a moment, before returning. “They’re around sometimes. They do their patrols, work hard, keep the peace. Mostly work their better jobs in the city though. Usually just get reports from them, hardly ever see ‘em in person.”

Three’s mind was reeling. She kept her face stony. “They live in the city?”

“Yeah, they like it there. I can give you their address, but I’m not really sure what their jobs are, younglins like you are hard to keep up with. If you see them tell them I say hi.”

Three spent the night in the compound, and resolved to go find them in the morning.

The next afternoon Three stood in front of the apartment. It wasn’t the fanciest, but by no means was it crappy. She could hear faint music from inside, and assumed it had to be blasting from Four’s room. She knocked. Thunking sounds came from the inside, as well as a couple of colorful swears.

“Eight! Can you get that? I’m trying to gear up!” Faintly from the inside.

Three heard something, but not a significant voice. Footsteps padded closer to the door, and it swung wide open to reveal Eight.

Three wished she had closed her mouth. Eight looked so incredibly different. For one thing, she was healthy, her skin no longer gray and dull. She gained weight, and looked happier. Her hair wasn’t that pink color, traded for a light but bright blue. Instead of framing her face it was styled in a ponytail. No more octoling fashion either, wearing a t-shirt with some headphones around her neck and high topped shoes. The only thing that remained the same were her eyes, a deep violet that was rare among Inklings.

“Three?”

That shook Three out of her trance. It was the first time she had ever (consciously) heard Eight’s voice. Also, Eight was speaking Inkish.

“Yeah.” Three rasped, before internally kicking herself. “Um, that’s me.” She coughed slightly.

Three wasn’t sure what she expected. She remembered just how attached this Octoling was when she first came up. She remembered just how much she regretted getting jumped by a stupid phone and attacking the Octoling. She remembered her shame and her guilt. Part of her thought Eight might still be attached. Another part, way further down, sort of hoped she would be. At the minimum, she hoped that Eights would be happy to see her.

Eight stood there, confused. She didn’t say anything, and didn’t really move. Her face looked wary of this intrusion. She wasn’t outright overjoyed, but wasn’t actively disgusted. Just a little cautious.

“What are you doing here?” Eight asked crossing her arms nervously.

That, was an excellent question. “I just got back. From my mission by the eastern shorelines. I wanted to see you. And Four,” She added hurriedly.

Eight rubbed her neck. “I don’t know if we can really hang out right now. Four’s on her way to this tournament and I promised I would go for the first round before I go to work…” Eight trailed off, probably expecting Three to ask about a better time. Instead, Three said the ultimate dumbass thing.

“You speak Inkish.” She hit herself mentally again. Of course she speaks Inkish, she’s been here 10 months.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you. I’ve learned a lot.” The sentence ended in a long silence.

Thankfully, Four rushed out of her room, hefting a beautiful looking roller and a sporting bag. She stopped at the door when she saw Three. Several emotions flickered across her face, before settling on relief.

“Three! You’re home!” Four dropped the roller and threw her arms around Three in a massive hug. Three took it awkwardly.

“Yeah, I am home. Hope to stay for a while too.”

“Did you do everything you wanted to get done?”

“Mostly.” Three paused. “Eight said you have a tournament?”

“Yeah. Pro turfing. Our team is tying to get into the S+ rank, but we need to play in some real tournaments in the A rank first.” Four rambled. She continued on about her team and their stats.

Three half listened to the rambling. Eight was looking mighty uncomfortable. She took a couple steps back into the apartment, and appeared to be trying to blend in with the walls. A task she was failing at miserably due to her bright hair.

Three cut Four off. “You sound like you have a busy day planned. Maybe we could meet up tomorrow sometime? Get lunch or something. All of us agents.” Finally, Three felt like a real person again.

Four blinked. “You wanna get lunch?”

Three shifted her feet. “Yeah?”

Four looked back at Eight, who shook her head ever so slightly. Three caught it, and her stomach dropped.

“Yeah, um.. We’ll have to get back to you on that. What’s your phone number now?”

Three rattled off the digits.

“Great. Well, we have to go. We’ll uh, see you around.” Four grabbed Eight by the arm and pulled her down the stairs. Three stood back by the door for a few moments stunned, before heading down herself_._

_“I’ve got some work to do.”_ She thought to herself.


	3. Remember When

A few days after returning, Three called Eight. Three invited her and Four to join her at a coffee shop, where they could talk. Eight agreed to it. Now, Three was early, and ordering her coffee. As she sat at the table, she remembered the last time she had this coffee.

\- - -

_Three entered the conference room, grumpy. Cuttlefish handed her a cup of coffee from the surface. _

_“You better have a good reason to send me across the country.”_

_“I promise you I do.” Cuttlefish sighed. “Every 70 years, there are these fish that come up from the ocean. They are hungry, malicious, violent. It’s that time of century.”_

_“The salmonoids. I know, they have the islands southwest of here.”_

_“I need you to go east. The salmonoids will start attacking all of the small cities out there in about a year. The last people who fought the salmonoids were young 70 years ago. They need fresh training.”_

_“You want me to go out and train fresh soldiers?”_

_“As well as help with evacuation plans. 300 years of salmonoid attacks means we know what needs to be done. We just need to send combat ready people in to train. Enough can be passed down, but things go missing in 2 generations. _

_“The salmonoids should be there in about a year. If you spend a few months working on the proper evacuation procedures and training then you should be alright. I’d also recommend picking your strongest men and bringing them back to Inkopolis for a couple months. Let them experience turf wars, maybe even some of our compound simulations. Definitely have them practice some Grizzco shifts.”_

_Three sat down and took out a pencil. “What kind of tech do the cities have?”_

_Cuttlefish shook his head. “Very little. They have the basic weapons, but nothing fancier than the traditional splat line. Basic bombs, no special charge meters. The cities may have one or two spawn points. Towns won’t have any in a good range. It’s something I’ve been working on, getting more active, but these people are farmers. They don’t get hurt bad enough to need them very often.”_

_“The spawn points are targets for salmonoids, always have been. That’s why Mr. Grizz doesn’t provide any onsite.”_

_“Exactly. They need to be combat ready. No casualties is always the goal._

_“How long should the cycle last?”_

_“About a year, give or take. It waxes and wanes. They move around to different cities, they may leave a city alone for months. It’s best that the only ones living there are trained. The others will spend their time inland where its safe.”_

_“Why not send everyone inland? The salmonoids return to the ocean soon enough.”_

_“They’re relentless. They’ll travel as far inland as it takes to get to the population, and wreck everything in the process. They want the land, that’s the thing. Not to mention their population is enormous. If left unchecked, they’d overwhelm us by sheer numbers. It’s part of why Mr. Grizz is still in business.”_

_“Mr. Grizz always takes eggs.”_

_“Exactly. With 70 crews out on the seas, 50 eggs per crew, give or take. 3,500 eggs and triple the amount of mature salmonoids in just one run. He is pivotal to the current population control.”_

_Three tapped her pencil on the table. “If they don’t have special meters, would Grizz sell his special packs?” _

_Cuttlefish huffed. “Grizz is stubborn, even worse than you. He doesn’t allow others to use his tech, not his weapons, specials, or his other inventions. He is annoying as all get out. Those life rings alone would save hundreds of inklings, but he wont hear it, not for any amount of eggs or gold. Hell, I even offered sea snails. Nothing.” _

_Three took a breath. She understood the mission. She would be gone for a few months while she trained soldiers and helped prep for evacuation. Then she would bring back some of these Inklings to train here. If it had been just a few months earlier, or a few months later, she would have been practically vibrating with excitement. It was just… Eight._

_“What about Eight?”_

_Cuttlefish looked down. “I know. I don’t like sending you away from her either. But this needs to get done, and it will take time. If we could wait, we would.” _

_“I guess I’ll go pack.” _

_“Three.”_

_“What?”_

_“Don’t tell anyone where you’re going alright? Four needs to focus on getting Eight back up on her feet. If she’s worried about you, I don’t think she’ll do it as well. And you need to get your head right. When you get out there make some friends. Those farmers know more than they let on.”_

_“Yes, sir.” Three walked out, and tossed her coffee cup into the trash._

\- - -

Three didn’t really know why she was doing this. She had only been around Four for a couple of weeks. They weren’t close. She knew Eight even less, since they had never really been able to communicate. She had been fine without friends her whole life. She was fine with being alone.

\- - -

_“You’re leaving?” Four asked. “Where are you going?” _

_“Cuttlefish has me going east. He told me not to say why.” Three didn’t turn around from her duffle bag._

_“Can’t it wait? Eight needs support, and we’re all she has.” _

_“It can’t. I need to go, now.” _

_“Whatever it is, she needs you more. She’s attached to you, she always brightens up when you’re around.” _

_“Don’t know why.” _

_Four grabbed Three’s arm. “Okay, whatever it was that happened to you down there? Eight had it worse. Not to mention that you were the one to attack her. Whatever attachment she has to you, if you break it now I don’t know what we’re are going to do to get her back. You can’t leave!”_

_Three pulled her arm away sharply. “Don’t tell me things I already know. I don’t need her. I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone but myself and my mission._

_Four’s expression changed. “I hope whatever this mission is is worth it. But don’t expect her to be happy when you get back.”_

\- - -

Right up until she realized she wasn’t.

“Three!” Four called. Three waved meekly.

“Hey.” Eight sat down across from Three. Three noticed her eyes were darker today. “How are you doing?”

“Oh, I’m back. Upright and everything.

“Oh. Good.” Eight looked down.

Three switched subjects. “This place is pretty good. I used to come here all the time with the captain.”

Four jumped in. “I know right. He loves this place.”

Eight nodded. The conversation died again.

Three tried one more time. “Four, you’re a pro turfer?”

This livened Eight up a little. It was something she seemed to know about. Four on the other hand, seemed to shut down. “Yeah. Moving up in the world.”

“It’s great you have time to do both NSS and Turfing.” Three hated the sound of her voice. It felt so fake. She didn’t even care about Pro Turfing, and here she was trying to sound so invested.

Four looked up. “Three, listen. It is great that you’re back, and we are happy your mission is over but… what exactly are we doing here?”

“We’re getting coffee.” A nervous edge had slid into Three’s voice.

“Yeah, I guess, but what are you hoping to gain?”

“I don’t know. I just wanted to see how you were doing. It’s been a long time, and I was messed up and now I’m here and-”

“You were messed up?” Eight asked. Four’s head whipped around

“Um. Yeah. My head wasn’t completely right. It was part of why I left. I mean, I know you had it worse-”

“Don’t say that.” Eight cut her off. 

“I’m sorry?”

“Sorry. We just, we don’t compare stories. It’s not fair to compare yourself to someone else. It was something Four and I worked on.” Eight smiled at Four. 

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Eight had a small smile on her face. It wasn’t much, but to Three, it was everything.

_’It’s progress.’_


	4. Spar Partners

Three texted Eight.

_Three: 12:36 PM_

_Hey, do you want to meet up at the compound tonight?_

_Eight: 1:05 PM_

_Hi, sorry I’m at work right now, but I know Four is free. I heard her talking about wanting someone to spar with? Maybe she can hang out._

_Three: 1:06 PM_

_Oh ok. Thanks._

_Message Read: 1:06 PM_

This time, Three called Four. Four agreed to meet up to spar for a while. They met in the square later that afternoon.

Four played with vigor. She was ruthless, and even a little mean. Three wasn’t expecting her to be so harsh, and was even hoping to build up a little trust.

“Another good shot.” Three commented as she ducked out of the way. 

“Thanks.” Four said curtly. She swung her roller backwards, sending a wide band of ink around her. Three narrowly dodged it.

“How’s Eight?” Three asked. She swam up a wall and leapt off, tossing a bomb behind her.

Four muttered something under her breath, and took another swing.

“I couldn’t hear you.” Three came back up with her splattershot poised.

“I didn’t say anything important.” Four, now on top of the wall started spreading ink to the low ground.

“Come on, I just want to know how she’s doing.” Three was swimming around the back to try and get the drop on Four.

“She’s doing fine.” Four could feel Three’s next move in her gut.

“Then you should be fine too.” Three emerged from the ink, directly behind Four.

“Oh _should we?!”_ Four did a complete 180 on her heels and brought the roller down in a vertical flick.

Splatted Agent Three.

Three swam back from the spawn to see Four still covering turf. “You seem pissed.”

“You’re damn right I’m pissed.” Four stopped moving and leaned against her roller. “You were angry when I met you, and I know you were messed up from the metro. We knew each other for two and a half weeks, max, before you just took off to another mission. We didn’t see you for 10 months. And now you waltz in like, you’ve been here the whole time?”

“I don’t waltz.” Three took a step back

Four pressed forward. “You _waltz into _not just my life, but Eight’s life and act like nothing matters. Like everything is okay. We spent all 10 of those months recovering, she did not get to where she is now easily. I don’t know you! I know what the captain and Marie have told me. That you crave adventure. That you can never sit still. Maybe she bought your sob story, maybe there’s a part of her that is still attached to you, but my job for the last few months has been getting her back on her feet and I am not willing to jeopardize that for a stranger.”

Three blinked. Four was right in her face. She didn’t know what to say, how to justify herself. The mission hadn’t been something that could wait, and she had learned so much out there. One memory surfaced, and she did about the least Agent Three thing ever.

“I’m sorry.”

Now it was Four’s turn to be surprised. “What?”

“I’m sorry. Can we sit down to talk? Please?”

Four nodded and stepped back. They both sat down on the opposite walls.

Three took a deep breath. “You know about the salmonoids, right?”

“Yeah. I’ve worked a few shifts.”

Three told Four everything, about the storm walls, the east’s lack of preparation, and her mission. Cuttlefish would be mad, but at this point, it needed to be said. 

“Why didn’t you tell me this the night you left?”

“Cuttlefish asked me not to. He wanted your focus to be on nothing but Eight.” Three paused. “He sent me because he knows me better than anyone. He knew I was shaken up and I needed space and time to get my head on right. It was better that I left, I promise you. I wouldn’t have been much help to Eight if I’d stayed. He was right, you got her here. But now that she’s better, and I’m better, and I’m back… I guess I was hoping we could start fresh? I didn’t know how much damage I’d done.”

Four sighed. “You know, I wasn’t exactly in the right the night you left either. Remember how Eight said we don’t compare? I… compared you to Eight to try and make you stay. It wasn’t exactly fair of me.”

“I remember that. I don’t blame you for saying it.”

“I’m sorry about that. And for getting in your face.”

“Look, I got some help while I was out with the farmers. Surprisingly they know some stuff. Can we start over? It would be beneficial if I could get along with my fellow Agents.”

Four nodded slowly. “I don’t know you yet. But… yeah. We can get to know each other.”


	5. Going Pro

Turfing was the word for all of the sports that involved ink combat. While Turf War was the most popular, other games were gaining ground. Tournament teams consisted of at least 4 people, and maximum of 6. Four was on a team of 6. All of them had different strengths and weaknesses, and different combos were better in different games. Four herself was a roller usually, but was handy with a close to midrange shooter. Four’s dreams of being a pro turfer were closer than ever before.

The upcoming tournament was the second of 3, with this month being Turf War. Next three tournaments would be Rainmaker, and so on until all 5 modes had gotten their chance to show who was best. Top ranking teams in each mode could move up the scale, and start competing in more intense tournaments, the pro league. Needless to say, Four had her work planned out for her for the next several months.

Part of turfing meant that you get splatted, a lot. Splatting itself is never comfortable, and can sometimes be very painful. Regulations now require that turfers wear little sensors at the bottom of their neck. They block the receptors in the body that allow the player to feel what it was like to actually get splatted. Everyone is issued a small headset and button clip that has the words This way, Ouch, and Booyah programed when pressed, located on the leg. Any other communication was banned, especially in the higher ranks. Too many parties, too many people being mean to each other, which lead to some unfortunate circumstances where the objective was completely ignored in favor for splatting each-other.

Their team was on the way to the top. Right up until Lisa and Kyle, the twins, had some news.

“You’re _moving?” _Four was incredulous. “Why?”

Lisa wrung her hands. “Kyle and I have to go back home. Our mom needs help out there with the littles, since Dad is fighting the salmonoids soon.”

“We’d only be gone a year, maybe year and a half?” Kyle added.

Four shook her head. The competition was well under way, and they had already paid their dues to be in. “Bear is already requesting to be an alternate so he can work at his shop more. Now our team is down to three regulars?”

“We’re sorry, but we don’t have much of a choice. You guys have your walls here, but out east it’s bad. Someone from Inkopolis had to go out and train all the people out there to fight.”

“I don’t pity them.” Four sighed. “I get it, I just have to find someone new.” Four hated the idea, team dynamic was a big part of why they were so successful. Interviewing for someone new would throw it all out of balance. Right when they were starting to gain a tiny bit of traction.

“We are really sorry.” Kyle patted her shoulder.

“I know.”

\- - -

“E-e-ight!” Four whined. “What am I going to do?” She flopped down onto the couch, flipping her feet up into the air.

“I don’t know. Interview people?” Eight crossed into the kitchen. “You’ve done it before, and you found Bear, remember?”

“It took forever to find Bear. It took forever to find the whole team! And we all know each other!” Four kicked at the wall.

“Keep your feet off the wall, I try to keep it nice in here. Do you know anyone from work who might be interested?”

“I don’t talk to the people at work. I’m _trying_ to go pro. I hate that stupid job.”

“You don’t have any friends outside of turfing. None whatsoever.”

“I have you. And Three, sorta.”

Eight snorted and poked her head through the doorway. “Ha! That would be hilarious, asking Three to be a pro turfer. She’d shut you down so fast!” She ducked back inside.

“How do you know what Three would say?”

“We’ve been talking some, she likes texting me for some reason. I mean, she’s been back for like, 3 weeks? I don’t think she has any other friends.”

Four laughed. “Yeah, makes sense.” Four blinked, then sat bolt upright. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Eight asked from the kitchen.

“You’re good at combat, I’ve seen you in turf war before.”

“I’m nowhere near pro! I’ve barely even played the other modes.” Eight came back out holding her sandwich. “Not to mention,” She took a bite, “I have another job that I like.”

“Oh please? You would be awesome! I know you really well already, you have skills, the team has met you so you aren’t a total stranger to them either?” Four was bouncing on the couch. “Please?”

Eight hesitated. She knew she was capable, but she didn’t want to relinquish her progress. “I… can try it.” Four fist pumped. “_Only_ on a trial basis, if I start having any kind of flashbacks I am done, okay?”

Four was ecstatic. “Yes! Whatever you need. Oh this is gonna be great!”

Eight hoped she was right. 


End file.
